


Innovation

by ColorfulStabwound



Series: There is a number of small things [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, innovation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:09:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColorfulStabwound/pseuds/ColorfulStabwound
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco has errands to run in the city and drags Theodore along.   </p><p>Feel good fluff. Go with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Innovation

**Author's Note:**

> For Theodore, you know who you are.

It was mid-morning before either of them decided it was a proper time to get out of bed. This had become a routine of sorts, even in the small handful of time that had passed since they had been reunited. There was a small part of Draco that was somewhat reluctant to let the other out of his sight, as if the lack of physical presence would somehow break the spell. Of course he knew that was ridiculous, Theodore was not going to simply disappear into thin air and leave him alone. _That’s your trick._ He thought grimly to himself, rolling over on his side and propping his head on his fist. The soft rise and fall of Theodore’s body told Draco that he was still fast asleep, and perhaps he should have let the other sleep, Merlin knew that there was _definitely_ a lack of it around here for one reason or another. Draco being, well, Draco, kindly told that notion to piss off.

 

“Are you awake?” He murmured as he leaned over the prone form beside him. His lips ghosted over bare flesh that was dusted with small freckles like the constellations that Theodore often obsessed over, and Draco couldn’t help but smirk smugly as his skin reacted to the barely-there touch, even in the depths of sleep.   _“No.”_ Came the muffled response and Draco grinned, continuing his plight of lips over the curve of a shoulder blade. Theodore shifted slightly; as if openly offering up more skin and Draco didn’t miss the soft exhale of breath against his pillow. He paused at the nape of Theodore’s neck and pressed a kiss in the warm patch of hair that led to a trail down his spine. By the time he’d worked his way back up, Theodore was practically squirming and he was _definitely_ not sleeping.  “As much as I would enjoy doing this all day, I have some errands to run in the city. Care to join me?” He spoke between open-mouthed kisses that lingered just long enough on Theodore’s skin to be maddening and it didn’t surprise Draco when he rolled over and fixed him with an exasperated glare. He flashed Theodore a disarming smile and rolled out of bed, his fingers circling his wrist and tugging him along despite his protests. _“Bloody tease.”_ Theodore grumbled on the way to the bathroom and Draco couldn’t help the amused laugh that escaped him as he shut the door behind them.

 

 

_“You dragged me out of bed to watch you have a suit altered?”_

 

Theodore Nott was not amused. Draco was watching him in the large mirror in front of him; they had stopped at his tailor’s shoppe for a quick alteration on a new suit; something that he knew wouldn’t excite anyone but him—Not that that had stopped him from bringing Theodore along. “Of course.” Was Draco’s only reply, which made the other man shift uncomfortably in his seat and grumble unintelligible words beneath his breath. The elderly gentleman who had been kneeling in front of Draco taking measurements stood up and draped a long tape measure around his neck and pushed up the spectacles that had slid halfway down his nose. Of course they were in muggle London. Draco took his clothing and fashion in general extremely serious; he would never trust a wizard tailor with the designer garments he chose to adorn his body in.

 

The pair stepped out of the tailors a short while later and Draco squinted and held up a hand to shield the early afternoon sunshine. He turned to Theodore who had just fished a cigarette out of his pocket and was smoking silently beside him. The corners of Draco’s mouth curved slightly and his gaze softened just enough that it wouldn’t have been visible to anyone who was not familiar with him. Theodore Nott had been a part of his life for as long as he could remember. They had been to hell and back for one another, on more than one occasion, and even though they were shoulder to shoulder as they stood there, Draco couldn’t help but feel smaller somehow.

 

“Ready for something a bit more interesting?” He asked as he reached over, plucking the cigarette from between the other’s moistened lips and pressing it between his own. Theodore’s mouth opened to protest but thought better of it and he fixed Draco with a withering stare instead. _“More interesting than watching a muggle grope you for payment? Not possible.”_ Draco smirked around the cigarette and he inhaled deeply from it, head shaking as he returned it to its owner. “Cheeky.” He muttered around a mouthful of smoke. “Come on.” Draco’s fingers circled Theodore’s wrist again and he led the way down the busy street into the heart of the city.

 

The walk was not a short one and neither one of them seemed to mind. There was plenty to see at any given time, not that Draco’s attention ever strayed very far from the man beside him. Sure, he may have long ago mastered the art of masking emotions and intentions, but those things rarely applied in Theodore’s presence. It had always been like this, even when they were children and Draco was trying his best to deny it. Theodore Nott was a rare thing. He was one of the few constants in Draco’s life and it had taken him a long time to realize that. Hell had nothing at all on his life void of Theodore, and he didn’t have any intention on testing that theory again.

 

They turned onto Great Russell and the fragrant scents of Bloomsbury Gardens engulfed them. Theodore glanced sideways at him suspiciously and Draco had to grin mischievously. “No.” Was his only comment on the matter, which was enough for Theodore to understand that no, they were NOT going to spend the afternoon wandering in gardens like they were ten years old again. Theodore’s shoulder brushed against Draco’s and lingered there and he was instantly flooded with a long-past memory of two boys, one fair-haired and the other dark, lost in a topiary garden. Draco shook the remnants of the memory away as they continued their walk. His cheeks flushed a faint pink and his fingers twitched as he raised a hand to briefly rest on the small of Theodore’s back. “This way.” He murmured as they crossed the small street to the looming building that was the British Museum.  Theodore’s head turned towards him and he once again fixed him with a suspicious gaze that Draco casually shrugged off. “I have business here.” Was all he said as they ascended the steps, an inward smile tugging at his lips.

 

Things changed the moment they stepped inside the museum, just as he had suspected that they would. Things like museums and galleries were places that Theodore truly came alive. He was at home amongst dusty artifacts and beautiful pieces of artwork and Draco could watch him like this for hours. It wasn’t as if the brooding writer who had impeccable musical taste and a fondness for nicotine wasn’t enticing to Draco, because it was, desperately so; but this was different. There was something inside Theodore that Draco only glimpsed on occasions like these. He had long ago learned to appreciate Theodore Nott for the enigmatic creature that he was and had even accepted that he would never see a passion as strong inside himself for something as he saw in the other man. _Designer menswear not withstanding._

 

Draco voluntarily allowed Theodore to commandeer their visit, willingly followed the other from one exhibit to the next; nodding and smiling enthusiastically at all the right moments. The conversation ranged from the Rosetta stone to the Yangzi River and everything in between and Draco greedily drank in all of it. The sheer volume of history packed into this massive building breathed life into Theodore and that was enough for him.

 

Somewhere in the middle of the Ancient Lives exhibit Theodore’s hand slid into Draco’s and he turned towards him until they were face to face. Draco’s expression was as smooth as marble, only a soft arch of blond brow suggested that he registered the inquiringly dark gaze for what it really was. _“I know what you’re doing.”_ Theodore had leaned close enough so that his quiet murmur was private; the fingers of his free hand splayed across Draco’s chest and the intimacy of the seemingly innocent moment between them caused Draco’s pulse to quicken slightly.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He remarked casually, his open hand finding its way back to the small of Theodore’s back. The world around them ceased to exist for a few moments and it was just Draco; just Theodore. _“You had business here? In this museum?”_ Theodore raised a skeptical brow and regarded him carefully—He was clearly searching for a crack in Draco’s mask, which amused Draco greatly.  “Yes.” Was all he said, and then the moment passed silently, the understanding between them transcending actual words.

 

When they finally made it back to Theodore’s flat it was late by normal standards, although Draco was hardly tired. Theodore quickly shed the extra pieces of his ensemble and Draco had to smile. Some things _never change._ There was coffee and conversation and some form of chocolate pastry or another and by the time Draco crawled into Theodore’s bed, Theodore was curled up in his favorite spot by the window scribbling furiously on his stack of parchment. Draco smiled into the pillow that smelled faintly of the other man’s shampoo. He knew that every day couldn’t be like this one, and he was okay with that. Where was the fun in a lifetime of lazy days spent in muggle London? Today hadn’t been about him, and he knew that he had done a piss poor job of hiding that, but it didn’t matter. The point is that it had worked—Theodore was back at his writing and Draco didn’t hear the sound of a single crumpled piece of parchment. It was a good day indeed.

 

 _“Are you awake?”_ The words had been so faint that they might have been a dream. Draco sighed softly and curled around the pillow in his grasp, willing sleep to claim him anew. Suddenly a pair of lips ghosted across his spine and he grinned in the darkness.  The bed shifted with Theodore’s weight beside him and his skin puckered with goose bumps. “Always.” Was his murmured reply and he rolled over, still grinning.

 

 

 

 


End file.
